


To Catch a Falling Star

by isabeau



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Gen, Kinda old fic (pre-2005), M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-01
Updated: 2005-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau/pseuds/isabeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Shire, some games mean more than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Catch a Falling Star

There was a game that Shire children played: a playing field would be  
marked off, by string or by common agreement; one of their number was  
blindfolded, set with the task of capturing one of the others, who were  
doing their best to dart out of reach; and each round would be launched  
with much shrieking and laughter and mass confusion. A capture would  
mean the end of the round, and they would pause only long enough to  
transfer the blindfold to the loser, before the next round began, and  
so it would go until their mothers called them inside. Most children  
played to win; remaining uncaptured for the duration of an afternoon's  
play was a badge of honor.

There was a game that the older Shire youth played; the rules were  
similar, but the price of loss was a kiss, taken before the blindfold  
changed hands. Most tweens played to lose, creating a delicate balance  
as each tried to remain uncaptured as long as possible while still losing  
the round.

Under the right circumstances, Peregrin Took played to lose as quickly  
as possible.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky, heavy like a fruit ripe for picking, making  
the shadows long and Merry's hair gold. He was laughing, and Pippin  
watched his mouth avidly. He preferred Merry's eyes -- the way they  
laughed when he laughed and smiled when he didn't, the way they danced,  
the way the sun at certain angles shone like fire in them -- but the  
thick dark cloth of the blindfold that kept Merry from seeing, kept  
Pippin from seeing /him/; so he settled for the mouth.

Not that Merry's mouth was a bad thing to settle for.

"Come and get me!" Pippin shouted, not really caring that after a brief  
instinctive twitch in his direction, Merry seemed to ignore him.  
Everyone shouted comments that, for the most part, everyone else ignored.  
Pippin knew that Merry was listening, that he was paying attention,  
keeping track of where Pippin was.

With the ease of long practice, Pippin stumbled gracelessly, emitting  
an "oof" that could have been unintentional. He righted himself quickly  
enough, scrambling away from Merry's questing hands, but he had timed  
it carefully enough that Merry still managed to grab his ankle. Pippin  
gave a half-hearted struggle and then flopped to his back, arms flung  
out in dramatic defeat. "I am yours," he said, and then yelped as Merry  
slapped his thigh lightly.

"You owe me a kiss."

"Come get it."

"Lazy Took," Merry chided, but he wriggled up anyway. Still  
blindfolded, Merry planted a sloppy kiss in the vicinity of Pippin's  
chin, and Pippin laughed and licked his cheek and stripped the blindfold  
off. Merry looked down at him, eyes shining.

Quietly, so that the others couldn't hear, Pippin murmured, "I meant  
it."

"Hm?" Merry kissed him again, quickly, hands tugging at the knot of the  
blindfold.

"What I said. I'm yours."

"Oh, Pip," Merry said, and smiled. His eyes were the last thing Pippin  
saw as the blindfold descended; and he kept them in his memory as gentle  
fingers tied it snugly behind his head, as Merry's warm hand slipped  
into his own to tug him to his feet. "All right," Merry said, and Pippin  
could hear the laughter in his voice. "Catch me if you can."

"Catch /any/ of us," another voice called out. Pippin lunged after that  
voice, knowing in advance that his hands would close on empty air, and  
not caring.

* * *

When it got too dark to see, that game ended, but another game began,  
as they straggled off in discreet twos. Pippin sauntered up to Merry, and  
casually said, "Catch me."

Merry glanced sideways at him, and then reached out. His fingers closed  
around Pippin's wrist. "You aren't running."

"I was never running."

"No." Merry tugged him closer, slipping an arm around him. "I've caught  
you."

"So now I owe you a kiss?"

"You owe me more than that." Merry laughed and kissed the tip of  
Pippin's nose; Pippin squirmed away, rubbing his nose, face twisted in  
comic disgust.

"You said that last time," he complained, not really meaning it.

"It's still true."

"Do I ever stop owing you?"

Promptly, Merry said, "No."

"Good," Pippin said, and meant it.  



End file.
